


Can you hear me?

by z0mbieshake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Soul Selling, Underworld (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14664669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/pseuds/z0mbieshake
Summary: In the afterlife, Facilier gives Felix a way to speak to Pan in the land of the living, a way for him to finally move on.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter lost. He didn’t get to create his new Neverland. That was what Felix heard from the whispering ghosts of the underworld. He didn’t win; he fled from the scene like a dog with his tail between his legs. _Felix’s sacrifice was for nothing._ Had Felix died for Pan’s dream, died for Pan’s future, despite the crippling betrayal he was put through for it to happen, Felix would have been okay. Felix would have passed on. Instead, Felix found himself sitting on a cliff surrounded by forest, looking out at the sea of lost souls, seeking solace from nobody.

The ghosts continued to whisper. They told him Pan was still alive, still searching for a way to prolong his life. Felix covered his face, taking slow breaths to calm himself. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Pan to succeed or not, wasn’t sure if he wanted Pan to win or for Pan to lose and come back to him. Or maybe he just wanted Pan to lose, pay his penance for killing him.

_No. Never._ An absent smile appeared on Felix’s face contrasting the pain constantly rippling through his body, starting at his heart and spread to his limbs like tremors from an earthquake. Felix would always want Pan to win, always want him to be at his happiest. The only thing Felix wanted, the only thing that would let him pass on, would be to hear Peter’s voice one more time, to confess his feelings for him. The contradiction of his goals was driving him mad.

“It doesn’t have to.”

Felix flinched, whipping around, confused who could have found him through the twisting forests of the underworld. He found himself staring at a dapper-dressed man in gaudy purples and reds, blending into the harsh red skies of Neverland. He wore a top hat covered in matching red feathers with a notable necklace of bones around his neck.

“Who are you?” Felix said, voice hoarse and quiet from disuse.

“I am Dr. Facilier and I’m here to,” The man paused, thinking briefly with a mysterious smile, “Help us both,” A puff of smoke enveloped his left hand as what appeared to be an old flip phone appeared in his fingers, “I’ve enchanted this device to speak between planes, such as this one and the world without magic. This is simply one of my many talents,” He threw it to the ground in front of Felix, “You can use this to contact Peter, wrap up your unfinished business, move on.”

Felix took the device, slowly rising to his feet as he examined it, finding nothing indicating magic in the mundane mobile phone, “Why do you want to help me?”

Facilier chuckled to himself, voice dark and rich as he looked aside, “Like I said, this will help us both. That device doesn’t work for free. For every call you make, it’ll absorb a little piece of your soul,” Felix flinched at the thought, “Your memories, your personality, your knowledge, even your ability to function will slowly be drained away. These _aspects_ are meaningless to me… until you move on. Once your soul has found peace, the remnants of a rested soul will become valuable in many, _many_ ways.”

It was easy to understand when there was value in both parties. This was the harsh truth Felix forced himself to learn, “What if I don’t find peace?”

“I guarantee you will,” Facilier said, sitting himself down on a nearby stump, “This isn’t some random occurrence. I didn’t just pick the first sap I sensed in the underworld. I came specifically for _you_ ,” He gestured in the air, clouds of smoke creating a mimicry of his death, of a heart being crushed in so many ways, “You, who still loves the person who killed you. You, who doesn’t want revenge, doesn’t want forgiveness. You, who simply wants to hear the voice of the person you devoted yourself to and _confess your feelings_. There is no simpler goal to accomplish in Hell.”

It seemed too good to be true, but Felix had no reason to doubt Facilier. There was nothing of value that Felix had left to lose. If this could give him even the slightest chance to hear Peter’s voice, Felix would take it. He nodded, turning away, clutching the phone to his chest, planning out his words. He wasn’t sure how long he had to speak so he thought through this carefully.

_I love you. I’ve always loved you. I still love you, even after everything._

_Don’t ever forget me._

_Peter Pan never fails._

Felix breathed in deeply, opening his eyes, already seeing the clear blue skies of Neverland, the great expanse of water amongst the bright green foliage. He opened the phone, finding a number already filled into the screen, “This is his number?”

“Correct. He’s still in the land without magic and has acquired a phone,” Facilier said, patiently waiting behind him, “Which makes this a great deal simpler for me. Your name will appear on the screen when you call him. You wouldn’t imagine how difficult it is to get someone to answer a call from a mirror.”

Felix wanted to laugh but couldn’t find the humour. He pressed the call button, holding it to his ear, waiting patiently. Felix couldn’t even get past the first dial tone before collapsing on the ground, mind twisted and warped as he panted heavily, gasping in pain at _something_ being ripped out from his soul. He kept a firm grip on the phone, panting weakly as the dial tone _stopped._

“W-What…” Felix gasped, patting at himself, finding everything intact.

“He didn’t pick up?” Facilier said, blinking curiously, frowning.

“What happened to me?” Felix choked out hoarsely, despite knowing exactly what occurred. Facilier was aware he knew the truth, simply folding his arms and waiting for Felix to put the pieces together, “What did I lose?” Felix couldn’t figure it out. He shut his eyes, running through his memory from before Neverland all the way to the moment he died.

Facilier stood, perturbed by this failure, “This adds complications, doesn’t it? Unfortunate. Really.”

It only occurred to Felix now that _Peter didn’t pick up the phone._ Facilier was sure that Felix would call him, knew he would leap at any chance to speak to Peter again. _He didn’t know Peter didn’t feel the same way._

When Facilier lowered himself to one knee, reaching for the phone in Felix’s hands, the boy jerked away, “Let me keep trying,” Felix said, clutching the phone tightly to his chest, “Please. I’ll get it to work.”

Facilier folded his arms, pondering his choices. He knew Felix was desperate, knew he would keep trying. The question was if Felix’s completed, but damned soul was worth as much as remnants of a peaceful one. He sighed, finding the value Felix hoped for, “Very well,” He said, turning his back, “I’ll be back to collect.”

Unlike the magical folk Felix had encountered in the underworld, Facilier didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke. His body shimmered as if looking at him through a layer of water, shifting and shaking until it faded away. Felix couldn’t recognize that magic but figured he wasn’t dead, unlike him. He returned his attention to the phone, staring at the number he couldn’t recognize.

_Don’t give up. He was probably away from his phone._

Felix reasoned that it was normal that Peter missed his called. If it was him in that situation, if Felix received a call from… from… that boy Hook killed. The one who was… important? _What was his name again?_

 

The pain was bearable the next time, the loss of memories was not. Felix grabbed onto a tree for support, shutting his eyes tightly, clutching the phone against his face as the sound of his mother’s voice left him, the vivid memories of his harsh father and idiot brother fading away, like dropping a photograph into the sea and watching the waves swallow it up.

He screamed when the dial tone ended. Memories ripped to shreds in his mind before leaving him in a blissful numbness. He gasped, collapsing into the dirt, writhing around, feeling something important in his life gone.

 

“Curly, Tootles, N—” Felix gasped, blinking harshly, images blurring and twisting around in his mind, names fading. He only managed to carve one name into the dirt with his free hand, the other clutching into the phone until he cracked his nails, “Please pick up. Please, please!” Felix begged, dropping his head into the dirt and wailing as he lost the patrol routes he once took, the layout of the camp, the faces of his dearest friends.

He gasped, the dial tone stopping. Felix dropped the phone, staring into the name carved into the dirt and feeling no pain from it, _no loss._ His hands glided over the lines, unable to put meaning into how desperately he carved it in.

His chest felt inexplicably light, finding the misery that chained him down disappearing.

 

Why wasn’t Pan picking up? Didn’t they spend so many years on-on… that island _alone_? Just him and Peter, till the so-called heroes came and snatched them away from their private sanctum. Just him and Peter. Just Peter.

Just Peter.

Just Peter.

 

There was no pain this time. Felix found himself laying in the dirt, phone not even held to his ear as the dial tone continued. Whatever memory was taken this time, whatever part of his soul was stripped away, it was something painful that Felix couldn’t bear, something he pushed into his mind as far back as he could. _Something that must’ve sent him here and caused this turmoil in his heart._ It was somewhat peaceful.

Felix smiled absently, shutting his eyes, seeing nothing but Peter Pan, beautiful, majestic, holding him close and whispering sweet songs into his ear. His heart was beating so quickly despite not having one anymore.

 

Felix couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He hit the ground like a pile of bricks, reeling pathetically as he rubbed at his knees, begging for them to move. The dial tone died again.

 

“You really were desperate, weren’t you?” Facilier said, standing over Felix who lay immobile in the dirt. He nudged at his legs, sensing no life within them. Felix was on his side, phone laying by his face sitting in his nearly lifeless hand, “Why didn’t you stop?”

Felix’s eyes peered up. He had no energy to stand, to meet Facilier face to face. He looked pathetic but Felix had no mind to care, “I want to talk to Peter,” In the back of his mind, Felix knew if he achieved his goal, regardless of how much of his soul he cast away to do this, he could find peace, “I want to talk to Peter,” He repeated.

“You have one more call,” Facilier said, “After that, there won’t be enough left of you to do this.”

Facilier wasn’t trying to convince him to stop. He knew Felix wouldn’t.

Felix smiled absently, eyes glazed over, watching the sea of lost souls past the cliff, “I want to talk to Peter.”

One more call, one more chance, Felix shut his eyes, feeling even Peter’s image start to fade.

“ _Hello?”_

Felix’s eyes snapped open, lips shaky, his body filling with energy for just a brief second, “P-Peter?” He took a slow breath, “It’s…It’s Felix,” Remembering his name felt like he was clawing it out of his skull.

“ _…what? How?”_ A pause, a crackle of lightning was heard behind him, “ _Are you alive?”_

“N-no, I’m not,” Felix choked out, “I’m still dead,” He tried to laugh but could only manage a hoarse cough, “I-I’ve been trying to…reach you…” He was being buried alive, his body crushed by soil that wouldn’t stop pouring into his coffin. He choked on dirt that wasn’t there. It was bitter on his tongue and wouldn’t leave no matter how much he spat out.

Another crackle of lightning was heard. Felix could hear Peter chuckling, talking jovially to someone in the room. He had never heard such a beautiful sound. Felix didn’t have much time. He had so much to say, so much planned out, but none of it remained except for the feeling, the passion he clung to when everything else was torn away.

“Peter. I’ve always loved you—”

“ _I need a moment, is that alright?_ ”

The pause felt like an eternity. Even in his current state, his mind reduced to jelly, Felix knew he could never reject a command from Peter, “Okay,” He whispered, his fingers trembling as they could no longer carry the weight of the phone. His lip was bleeding from where he bit through it. A tear rolled down his nose. His vision blurred from tears and magic stripping away the last of his soul. With energy he thought he no longer had, Felix sobbed once, letting the tears pour out of his eyes, Peter’s image fading away, Peter’s voice fading away.

The phone was taken from his hands without answer resistance. A gloved hand came over his face, shutting his eyes. Facilier pocketed the phone, backing off, “Such a pity.”

He left the boy alone on the cliff, the remnants of his soul imprisoned by a mindless body, lost in true eternal slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

“Felix? Felix? It worked!” Peter shouted, picking up his phone, “I created a portal to a Neverland in another…” He faded, looking at his phone, noticing that Felix had hung up. He blinked, staring at the screen, _remembering Felix’s confession_ , but confused at why Felix would end the call at that. He stared at the portal he had made, remembering the crackling energy that he had harnessed, how the pseudo lightning struck his desk and alerted him of the calling number.

Peter swallowed, checking the history, finding so many attempts lost in a list of missed calls. He was so wrapped up in his magic, so obsessed with his Neverland, Peter didn’t even realize Felix was breaking the rules of life and death to reach him.

Felix wouldn’t have given up. Something happened to him. Peter was acting on instinct when he scrambled through his magical grimoires. Such sorcery could only belong to a witch doctor, someone with friends in the afterlife that could allow this insidious bridge between worlds. He swallowed, finding a possible spell that Felix used: In exchange for parts of his soul, he could communicate with the living through a medium of their choice. _Had Felix’s soul been torn apart?_

He nearly forgot about his current goals until the portal crackled again. He looked up slowly, seeing _Neverland_ glorious and humming before him. _He could start over_ , find another Felix, maybe a nearly identical one from the thousands of parallel worlds there were. He had an eternity to do so, why derail his plans now for a single, human boy?

_He swore his love for you even after you killed him._

Peter jerked away, hanging his head, nearly throwing up. He found the proper notes at the bottom of his stack of books: Changing the destination of his transcendent portal.

 

The world radiated necrotic magic. The harsh crimson of the sky was already giving Peter a headache. He wasn’t sure how Felix had remained here for so long. The thought made him sick with guilt. The sooner the found Felix, the sooner he could leave. He took out a scrap of cloth that belonged to Felix, something he used to tie his dagger to his belt when his strap broke. He gestured over it, struggling to summon magic as if he was siphoning it out from six feet below dirt. He sighed in relief when he finally managed to locater spell, following the piece of cloth into the forest.

 “Felix!” He cried out, the winding path eventually leading him to a clearing where a makeshift camp sat. He scanned the surroundings, finding multiple rope traps on the perimeter, a bonfire in the middle long put out, and several bedrolls scattered amongst the campsite with a body clothed in dark laying on the one closest to the cliff. Peter gasped at the sight, dashing forward, “Felix!” He lowered himself on the bedroll, taking the boy’s shoulders and rolling him onto his back, curious at the name _Killian_ carved into the dirt.

At first touch, Peter knew something was wrong. _Felix was so cold._ He looked like he was sleeping but he felt like he was dead. Peter brushed his cheek gently, feeling no life, no warmth, as if he were stroking a marble statue. Dried up tears were visible along the bridge of his nose. In Felix’s last moments, laying in the dirt as his soul was drained away, _Felix was crying._

“No, no, no,” Peter echoed, lifting Felix up, cradling him, trying to coax life into a boy that died twice, first his body then his soul, “Wake up. Please.”

“You and I both know he won’t,” Facilier said, standing before both boys, materialized out of nothing. He didn’t react when Peter instinctively threw a hand up, trying to strangle him with magic he didn’t have. Facilier didn’t even flinch, “I’m not down here. Obviously.”

Peter held Felix tight against him, trying to protect him, “Are you here to stop me from taking him?”

“Taking him? What the devil are you talking about?” Facilier almost laughed in Peter’s face. He couldn’t believe this boy whom Felix devoted himself to was so utterly dull-minded, “Taking a remnant of soul to the world of the living won’t bring him back. All you’ll do is prevent him from moving on. Only gods can break the rules of life and death. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

Peter had no reason not to believe him. He looked away, staring at Felix’s lifeless body, sensing just the slightest wisp of life inside of him but nothing more, “What do you want?”

“I wanted him to move on,” Facilier said, sitting back on the stump he had taken before. He took the flip phone from his jacket pocket, waving it tauntingly at Peter’s face, “If you just let him speak, he would have moved on by now instead of having all of his soul sucked away into this.”

Peter spat at his feet, “You tricked him.”

“Our deal was mutually beneficial,” Facilier responded, “You’re the one who let him down,” He chuckled lightly, mocking Peter with a lifted brow, “Let us _both_ down. I didn’t think someone could swear such fealty to an _idiot_.”

_Don’t get angry. Don’t make a stupid mistake._ Peter breathed out slowly, realizing he was holding his breath the whole time, “You must know how to save him.”

Facilier shrugged, “My _projects_ with soul remnants never seem to work out.”

Peter’s eyes fell to Felix who teetered on the edge of sleep and death. Peter couldn’t forget what happened: Most of Felix’s soul was gone, drained away by the phone in Facilier’s hands. Whatever piece of Felix’s soul remained, whatever slightest, flickering flame Felix could detect buried in his body, _that was not Felix._ The boy that loved him was gone forever. Peter was simply putting his soul to rest. This wasn’t worth his only path to a new Neverland, Peter knew that, but deep down, he knew that was why he didn’t come to the underworld with a backup plan. He owed Felix this much.

Deep in his body, in the void where his soul once rested, _in Felix’s darkest dreams where no magic could pry into_ , the last of Felix’s soul was locked away in there. In his dreams, where Peter was at his strongest, that was where Felix was.

Peter said nothing as he pressed his fingertips against Felix’s forehead, ignoring the witch doctor who simply paced around them. He slipped in without resistance, without thoughts or existing dreams holding him back. He fell into an empty expanse, nothing but a white backdrop with no end in sight. He braced himself for the ground, only to find himself plummeting even further, he gasped, feeling himself drop into what felt like the ocean. He fought for air, arms forcing himself upward only to find no surface in sight. He choked, lungs filling with liquid too thick to be water, weighing him down, dragging him further and further till his lungs started filling with dirt. Buried underground, weight piling on to of him till unbearable, Peter screamed involuntarily, letting dirt pack its way down his throat even further.

Peter screamed when he awoke, flinching away, kicking Felix off his lap and backing away in the grass. He coughed until he threw up in the dirt, eyes wild and unfocused as he eyed Felix in horror.

“I should have warned you,” Facilier said, sitting on a stump, casually drinking hot chocolate from a thermos, “But you were so eager. I thought I’d let you figure it out.”

“What was that?” Peter asked, smoothing out his hair, willing himself to calm down. Facilier didn’t need to explain; Peter figured it out on his own. _There was no soul for him to enter_ , nothing but a hollow, shapeless void, and somewhere underneath all of that, there was the last remnant of Felix’s being, “If I get past all of that, can I get to Felix?”

“Worth a shot,” Facilier responded, shrugging casually. The man was _fucking with him_ now, but Peter couldn’t let it go.

Again and again, Peter would try, just like Felix had. Again and again, _Peter failed_. Past the water than drowned him, past the dirt that crushed him, past the fires that flayed him and crisped his skin, past the vacuum that made him implode, past the blinding light that seared away his eyes, past the booming, ear-shattering screeches, Peter tried again and again, spitting up and crying blood with every attempt. He collapsed beside Felix, on his hands and knees, vomiting blood and wiping it away from his eyes.

“Why?” Peter choked out, staring at his bloodstained hands, feeling lightheaded.

Facilier was still there, watching him like a science experiment, “Fascinating. I’ve never seen something like this before,” He chuckled lightly, “Seems like dipping into the dreams of a soulless being is an arduous process. The stress is starting to affect your physical body.”

Peter could sense it, didn’t need Facilier to make his diagnosis. He clenched his hand twice, seeing the image of it shift and double. This was killing him just as much as using the phone killed Felix again. He had to stop before he bled out. He shoved Felix away and onto the bedroll, blood staining his clothes and pale visage.

“Giving up?” Facilier said, chuckling.

“I can’t save him,” Peter choked out, curling his hands into fists tightly, “This is going to kill me,” It killed Felix to reach him. Peter wasn’t willing to pay that price, not for Felix, not for the person he loved—

“Disappointing,” Facilier said, standing up, brushing off his knees, “I was so curious what would happen if you actually reach him. I’m done here,” He stepped away, disappearing behind Peter.

Alone, truly alone, Peter couldn’t stop himself from staring at Felix’s face, wishing that he’d open his eyes and surprise him. Without the need to protect his pride, Peter found himself stroking Felix’s face, other hand weaving through his hair. He thought he could get over Felix, find someone to replace him, _how blasphemous._ The last time he let those thoughts take over, he killed Felix with his own hands, and here he was, ripping apart his own soul to save Felix’s.

The thoughts were back and he couldn’t let them win. Peter opened his eyes, pulling Felix back onto his lap, holding his breath before dipping his fingers into his mind. _One more time. One more time._

Everything was worse this time. The water was thicker as it entered his lungs. The dirt was heavier as it crushed his limbs. The flames were hotter. Everything was worse but Peter bit down on his tongue, scratched lines down his back, forcing himself to collide with each barrier until his body had no choice but to keep moving forward, the momentum overpowering his will. He screamed throughout the journey, barely forcing his eyes open as his body was assaulted by a barrier of glass, millions and millions of shards ripping through his flesh, flaying him alive, till he found himself suspended in pitch-black nothingness.

When the pain finally subsided, Peter opened his eyes, seeing absolutely nothing but a single flickering pink light in the distance. He flexed his hands, looking down at them, expected his flesh to be distorted and twisted with burns and scars. _Nothing._ He was completely intact. He wanted to laugh but found no humour in his situation. He was in the deepest part of Felix’s psyche, the only place his soul still existed, even if it was just a fragment. He flew forward in the void, following that distant pink light.

The closer he got, Peter was able to make out what was beckoning him: _Felix’s heart_ , a beautiful shade of red completely untouched by darkness. How curious that Felix who served a tyrannical monster all his life was pure of heart, doing all his actions out of goodness, loyalty, _love_. Peter reached out, touching the heart, warmth surrounding him like a gentle embrace till Peter thought he’d break down in tears. He groaned weakly, feeling hands coaxing him forward, stroking him like a lover, protecting him from the hell he endured to get here, healing the phantom pain in his limbs. The comfort was overflowing from this single ruby heart in his hands, filling this dark void with a feeling like home.

“Felix,” Peter gasped out, still holding Felix’s heart and overwhelmed by the sweetness of the light, the softness in the ethereal embrace. What Felix clung to with every fibre of his being while his soul was stripped away was obvious, “I hear you. I understand. I really do,” The light was circling him as if it had a life of its own, “I love you too.”

A pulse of white light came from Peter’s body, shattering the darkness. Felix’s heart disappeared, twisting away as it sparkled and shone like the sun, bonding with the light that came from Peter’s body before filling the world around them with whiteness that no longer blinded. Peter was so drawn away by the wonder, he didn’t notice the blood trickling from his eyes, his mouth, his ears, the dull pain slow as it overtook his body. He didn’t care though, not even when he awoke and found himself staring down at his own bloodied, deceased body curled up beside Felix’s pale form. He blinked, lifting his arm, finding a hawk made of silver feathers and white light perched upon his forearm staring at him.

Peter smiled, tilting his head, “Felix,” He whispered to the hawk, salvaging the last of Felix’s soul, finding life from the death.

A gate opened in midair over the cliff, superimposing _Neverland_ over the sea of lost souls, blue skies and blue ocean a welcome sight over the crimson skies of the underworld. Peter looked to Felix, lifting his arm and sending his friend into his eternal rest before lifting his feet from the dirt, arms spread as he followed his beloved friend.


End file.
